Lose You
by The Lady Arturia
Summary: Draco's and Harry's lives are deeply interconnected despite each choosing to walk down vastly different paths. Draco knows they're too different to allow them to be together, but somehow, no matter how much he tries to distance himself and run away from everyone and everything in an attempt to protect Harry from his darkness, they always end up revolving back to each other.


**A/n: Firstly, I would like to solemnly apologise to my readers for being AWOL for so long. I moved to Australia for my masters 2 months ago and things have been unbelievably hectic. Because I had to leave behind my Mac at home, I don't have the drafts of the chapters of my multi-chapter stories, so I'll have to figure out a way to get them before I can update them. I really am apologetic for not posting regularly, and** hopefully **this attempt to get back to writing after over 2 months will help my cause. Here's a Drarry to make up for lost time.**

 **Arty xx**

 **This story was inspired by the song _Lose You_ by Eric Nam. This is an AU where Harry and Draco were "together" from their 6th year onwards and beginsfrom some point soon after Dumbledore's death. Prompts at the bottom.**

* * *

 **This story is for Ana (obscurialdefenseclub).**

* * *

 **Lose You**

* * *

 _But I, if I stay with you, we won't make it_

 _It's just something we gotta do_

* * *

His pace was brisk, chin held high, eyes focused straight ahead, fists clenched at his side—he was walking away with the purpose of not turning back.

Cool fingers wrapped around his wrist and jerked him to a stop, his arm twisted behind him from his refusal to turn around.

"Don't do this," came the broken whisper from over his shoulder, and he had to bite his tongue and dig his heels into the ground to keep from responding or looking back. "Please," the other continued, his grip tightening and his tone more urgent. "I can't help you anymore if you do this."

"I never _asked_ you to," he spat, despite himself. Swivelling around, he snapped his wrist from the other's grip and shoved him away. "I _never_ asked."

"I know." Wide emerald eyes glittered in the moonlight and pink lips trembled. "I know, Draco, but I—"

"You _what,_ Potter?" Draco hissed, shoving Harry again, his palms stinging each time he felt the other's warmth. "Haven't you had enough of pulling your _Boy-Who-Lived,_ heroic crap on me yet?" He took a step forward, heart clenching when Harry stepped back. "Because I have." Another step forward, and another step back. "Because I am sick and tired of having to listen to your patronising, self-serving bullshit all the time. I am _sick_ of you trying to preach me into turning over a new leaf, or changing my ways, or walking down the righteous path."

"Draco—"

"No, Harry." He inhaled deeply, jaw set, teeth clenched, eyes burning from unshed tears. He had to do this. He had to. "We are not the same, no matter how much you try to convince me—or yourself—that we are." He reached up and snatched the sleeve of his cloak away to reveal the embossed Dark Mark etched into his forearm. "You and I—we're too different. We will _never_ be the same."

Harry's eyes flickered with disgust when they fell on the Mark. It was fleeting, but it was enough to further solidify Draco's resolve. "You don't know how painful it is," he continued, his voice low and trembling, "to see the revulsion in your eyes each time, knowing what I'm doing is only causing you more pain and suffering." He dropped his arm, letting the dark fabric hide the abomination on his skin. " _Knowing,_ yet being unable to stop. Can you even begin to imagine how painful it is for me?"

"Draco." Harry shook his head, reaching an arm out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, so please don't do this."

"You're sorry?" Draco asked, his tone spiteful, spitting venom like an injured serpent, "For what? For being The Chosen One? For not being evil? For not being a coward? For not being able to convince me?" Draco scoffed, looking away. "Or for falling for a vile snake like me?"

Harry grabbed him by the shoulders then, shaking him, his strength making Draco shudder. "Don't warp my words. I never said anything of that sort. I would never—"

"What do you want from me, Potter?" Draco's voice was resigned—tired. He only had so much resolve, and it was quickly melting away under the intensity of those emerald eyes. Harry's grip relaxed, and he looked conflicted, pained.

"I want you to let me help you."

"You cannot help me, Harry," Draco said, reaching up to pull the other's hands away. He held them for a moment before letting go. "This is my battle to fight, not yours. Anything you do will only make things worse."

"Run away with me," Harry begged, in one final attempt of desperation. "Let's run away, you and I."

Draco attempted a smile, but it turned into a grimace when his forearm stung, reminding him of their reality. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere."

"He'll find us."

Draco could see the fear in Harry's eyes. The uncertainty in the face of overwhelming evil. The pinprick of light, the remnants of hope glimmering in his eyes, were quickly succumbing to the immense darkness that threatened to overcome and consume all.

"We'll fight him," he said, but even Draco knew that Harry didn't believe his own words.

"We'll lose." Draco stepped back, swallowing down everything he wanted to say, and shook his head. "If you stay, we'll both lose." He took another step back. "But if I go… you still have a chance of winning."

"I can't win alone," Harry said, reaching out to Draco.

Dull orbs of light appeared behind Harry, magnifying in size and intensity as they grew closer. They were out of time. If Draco didn't leave now, he would be caught, and he couldn't afford to be held captive. Not after what he had done. Not after—

"You're not alone," Draco said, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. He motioned behind Harry, and the moment the latter turned, Draco spun on his heel and ran towards the beckoning darkness of the Forbidden Forest, pulling his hood over his head and became one with the shadows.

Granger and Weasley's familiar voices fell on ringing ears, and Draco stumbled to a stop, closing his eyes and losing himself in the expanse of the encroaching blackness of the night. Even shimmering emerald eyes could no longer save him from his imminent fate.

* * *

 _I think I wanna lose you_

 _Just to find my way back to you_

* * *

He spun around, and Harry crashed into him, slamming him against the wall and pinning his arms on either side. They panted and gasped, faces inches apart, emerald eyes boring into his own, and Harry crushed his lips against Draco's. The kiss was feverish—desperate, angry, relieved—and Draco felt himself melt into Harry's warmth, surprised at himself for being unable to contain how much he had yearned for it.

"Where did you go?" Harry demanded between kisses, his grip on Draco's wrists becoming painful, his weight keeping Draco pinned to the wall.

"I can't tell you," Draco gasped, his knees giving way, and Harry swept him off his feet before he could fall to the floor. He carried him over to the lone couch in his cramped office and dropped him on it unceremoniously. "You could be gentle, you know," Draco quipped as Harry climbed over him, holding him down once again. "And you can stop restraining me; I'm not going to run away."

"I _was_ gentle, but you still ran away. So I decided to change strategies," Harry said, nipping at Draco's exposed collarbone.

"You sure are fiesty, for someone who hasn't seen the love of his life in several years." Draco laughed when Harry bit him.

"I saw you at your trial," Harry replied, finally sitting back and letting Draco get a good look at him.

It had been four years since the war—since Draco had left without a word—but Harry looked just as he had the night outside the Forest; the night that had been the start of many disappearing acts on Draco's part and helpless heartaches on Harry's.

"I saw you when you snuck into my house when you thought I was asleep that one time," Harry continued as Draco reached up to run his fingers through the other's messy raven locks. "I saw you even when you did your best to avoid me whenever you were summoned to the Ministry." Draco sighed as he caressed Harry's cheek, and the latter leant into his touch.

"I saw you at the memorial, talking to Andromeda when you thought nobody was around," Harry was still speaking, his voice soft, sending warm tingles down Draco's spine. "I saw you sometimes at art exhibitions or plays."

"And I always wondered why you were there," Draco murmured, running the tips of his fingers over Harry's lightning-bolt scar.

"Why do you think?" Harry leant down to capture Draco's lips in a gentle kiss, nuzzling his nose and keeping his eyes closed for a moment longer before pulling back.

Draco shrugged a shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You gained a newfound appreciation for the finer things in life while I was gone?"

"How can I appreciate it when it's gone?" Harry said, moving off Draco and sitting on the edge of the couch. Draco pushed himself up on an elbow, watching as Harry's expression grew somber for a moment before he turned back with a smile and said, "You should be glad I didn't sneak into your house and watch you sleep like a crazy stalker."

"I would've known if you had tried," Draco replied with a small smile, sitting up. "My spellwork has always been better than yours, after all."

Harry snorted and rose to his feet. He held a hand out, and Draco took it without hesitation. They stood facing each other for a long moment, staring into the other's eyes, trying to read the other's mind.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked, his voice soft and small and scared. "I looked everywhere for you. Where did you go that I couldn't find you?"

Draco reached up to brush Harry's hair from his forehead, pausing over his scar. "Somewhere I knew you wouldn't think to look," he murmured, focusing on his fingers as they trailed down the side of Harry's face, studiously avoiding the other's gaze.

Harry inhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, pulling him close. "Alright. You don't have to tell me where you went. But, at least promise me you'll tell me before you leave again."

Draco pressed his lips to Harry's for a long moment before finally meeting his eyes. "I promise."

* * *

 _I think I wanna break up_

 _Just to make it all up to you_

* * *

He flicked his wrist, starting when the door slammed shut, the sound echoing around the quiet room. He dropped his arm and walked out of the shadows, the folds of his cloak rustling against the dusty wooden boards with every step. Positioning himself so his side was to the door, he faced the wizard tied to the chair before him, ignoring the two Aurors standing by the window behind the criminal.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice low, his words cutting through the space between them like shards of ice.

Stormy eyes so similar to his own looked up, hollow and dead, devoid of any emotion or resolution. The man before him was a shadow of his past self; a shade trailing along the brink of death.

"Draco…"

"Do _not_ speak my name," he snapped, clenching his fists so tight, he could have snapped his wand in half. "Don't you _dare_ speak my name with your filthy tongue."

"Draco." This time, his name was spoken by one of the Aurors by the window. Unlike the previous desperate plea for help, this time was a warning. Considering he owed them one for this favour, he decided not to push his luck.

"You will tell me where she is," he hissed, stepping forward and raising his wand. "Or so help me, I _will_ hurt you."

When the older wizard continued to watch him with dead eyes, his once impeccably kept platinum-blond hair now white and clinging limply to his sallow cheeks, Draco twisted his wand in quick, jerking motions. He watched as the other man jerked from the bright and loud blasts, shuddering and whimpering from the sudden brightness and noise, stopping only when one of the Aurors sighed in annoyance.

"Lucius," Draco snapped, his voice venomous. "You _will_ tell me where she is, or by the name of Salazar, I will feed you to the Dementors myself."

That seemed to glean some semblance of a reaction from his father, and Draco watched with disgust as Lucius bared his teeth and trembled in fear. Draco squatted down before the other wizard and pulled the hood back so his face was visible. Conflict and pain flashed across Lucius's eyes, but he remained silent.

"I need you to tell me where she is," Draco whispered, his voice strained and impatient. "I need to know if I have to save her."

Lucius shook his head slowly. "You… cannot save her," he rasped, his voice broken and damaged.

"What?" Draco snapped, fear tightening his airway and blurring his vision. He hoped beyond hope that the pathetic excuse of a father of his wouldn't dare utter the words he was about to, for his own sake.

"Your mother… she's dead."

Draco reared back like a wounded basilisk, muttering curses under his breath, watching his father twist and coil in pain. His mother was dead? How? Had they found her before he had?

"You had _one_ job!" he roared, his wrist moving so fast, he could have dislocated it. "All you had to do was lie low and keep her hidden until I found her! How could you let her die, you pathetic—"

The door burst open just then, and Draco froze. He glanced up to see that the two Aurors were no longer by the window. Swearing under his breath, he slowly stepped backward, towards where he had stashed an escape portkey, as the group of Aurors entered the room, wands pointed at him.

"Don't move," said a voice so familiar that Draco froze again. The two things he had hoped wouldn't happen that day had come to fruition: he was a step too late to finding his mother, and—

"Drop your wand and keep your hands where I can see them!"

Draco pulled the hood off to reveal his face, watching as emerald eyes widened in shock. "I suppose this means I get to keep my promise after all," he said with a small smile. Stepping back, he felt the broken torch by his heel and swallowed. "Don't look for me. And don't ever let that man out of Azkaban."

With a flick of his wrist, he caused a bright explosion and grabbed the portkey. Even as he was Apparated away, he felt a spell catch him in the small of his back and saw his father's limp form fall to the ground.

* * *

 _I don't wanna let go, let go_

 _But I gotta let go, let go_

* * *

He looked over his shoulder when he heard the floorboards creak. He smiled as the other man froze and said, "Looks like you found me after all, Harry."

Harry relaxed and walked over to him, kneeling by his armchair and eyeing his legs intently. "I can walk, if that's what you're wondering," Draco said, amused.

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head, opened his mouth, then shut it again. Finally, he said, "I heard you'd been injured badly—that you were paralysed."

"We're wizards, Harry," Draco said, reaching out to touch the other but stopping millimetres from his face. "There's nothing a little magic can't heal."

"Except betrayal," Harry said, his eyes guarded.

Draco smiled. "And a broken heart, I suppose."

Harry looked away and around the room, rising to his feet with a sigh. "To think you were right under my nose this entire time."

"I told you I was somewhere you'd never think to look," Draco said, easing out of the chair. He winced, and Harry was by his side in an instant, helping him up. Draco held his hand for a moment longer before moving away. "It still hurts if I don't move them every so often."

"You could've come to me," Harry said as Draco walked over to pour them tea. "I could've helped."

"And risked losing your job and probably convicted for helping a murderer?"

There was silence, then Harry said, "You didn't kill him. Or her, for that matter."

"I may as well have," Draco muttered under his breath. He reached over for the box of tea, but knocked it over. Harry caught it and replaced it on the shelf.

"How long are you going to keep running from me?" he asked as he watched Draco stir the tea.

"As long as I'm being chased. Here." Harry took the cup with a nod of thanks, and they made their way back to the window. Draco settled back in his armchair, and Harry perched on the ledge, looking out with a pensive expression.

"I can't believe I never thought to look here. I never would've imagined—"

"That I would become a professor at Hogwarts?" Draco chuckled at Harry's expression and nodded. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't have either, if McGonagall hadn't made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"And what was that?"

Draco eyed the portrait of a snoring Dumbledore hanging over the fireplace with a sigh. "Amnesty and acceptance. In exchange for taking over as Potions Professor after Slughorn retired."

Harry hummed in thought. "I see why you couldn't refuse."

Draco nodded. After a time, he asked, "How did you find me, anyway?"

"Some of the Weasley kids started school this year and happened to mention it a little too loudly during one of many family get-togethers."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"They're good kids," Harry said, seeming somewhat detached.

"They're very good kids," Draco said, smiling when the other turned to him in surprise. "I was pleasantly surprised when I found that more than one of them had a talent for potionmaking."

Harry scoffed, looking like he didn't know how to react. "Never thought there would come a day when I would hear you praise not one, but multiple Weasleys."

Draco looked down at his lap, squeezing a knee. "Too much has happened to let childhood antagonisms reign forever."

He stiffened as Harry walked over and perched on the armrest, draping an arm across the top of the armchair behind Draco's head. "Do you know what's going on in my mind right now?" he asked, his voice deep, and Draco shivered from feeling the warm breath on his ear.

"When have I ever?" he managed to say, biting his lip when Harry shifted closer.

Harry chuckled, and Draco swallowed. "I'm thinking that maybe it's a good thing you're nearly paralysed and have difficulty getting to your feet." Harry reached over to grab Draco's wrist, a habit he seemed to have formed from the course of events over the past several years. "Because maybe, just maybe, at least now, you can't run away from me."

Draco half-turned, his eyes fluttering shut in expectation. For a fleeting second, he was disappointed by the cold air that met his parted lips, but then warm lips pressed against his and rugged fingers brushed through his hair; the grip on his wrist tightened to a painful extent and what he had yearned for was finally coming true.

But all Draco would think of in that moment was when he was standing at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, telling Harry that they were too different to ever be together.

* * *

 _I think I wanna lose you_

* * *

"How long will you keep running, Draco?"

He smiled down at the wrinkled palm in his hand before pressing a kiss to it. He looked up into the eyes of the woman he had thought he had lost forever, feeling a bitter twinge as he was reminded of his father's pitiful demise.

"As long as I have to." He reached up to tuck a grey strand of hair behind her ear and ignored the face he couldn't recognise. Even if she looked like someone else, even if every single part of her looked different, her eyes were still the same. "Mother."

His mother caressed his cheek, a pained smile on her face. "I'm sorry for the life you've had to live, my son. I'm sorry that your father and I couldn't protect you better."

"But you did," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Even when I thought I was the one protecting you by sending you into hiding, even when I thought I had failed as your son, even when I tortured my father and he still refused to give up your location, I was being protected by you."

His mother smiled, a tear trailing down her cheek. "Your father, he… he never forgave himself for letting his cowardice put your life in danger. He took a vow the day the Manor was stormed and we had to go into hiding: that even if he were to die, he would die protecting us. It was the least he could do, he said, for repentance."

Draco lay his head in his mother's lap, letting her stroke his hair and hum gently. He had anticipated it, but it had still been unexpected when he had heard that Malfoy Manor had been attacked and razed to the ground. It wasn't a secret that the Malfoys were the most hated of all for walking out of the war scott-free, with no repercussions for their actions. He could feel their hatred brewing and boiling, but when it exploded, all he could do was run.

He ran from his parents to keep them safe. He ran from his friends to keep them safe. He ran from Harry to keep him safe. He ran and ran and ran, and before he knew it, a decade had passed, and he no longer knew what he was running away from. The ghosts of his past? The fear of being ostracised? The loneliness?

"I'm sorry," he whispered, fisting the material of his mother's skirt in his hand. "I was told he had abandoned you and run when you'd been caught. I didn't know—I should've taken him with me—"

"Your father was tired, Draco." He slowly raised his head to meet his mother's tear-filled eyes. "So tired from running away his entire life. I'm thankful he doesn't have to anymore, and I pray and hope that the same fate doesn't befall you, my child."

Draco looked away. "It may be too late for that."

"What are you running from, Draco?" she asked gently.

"I—I don't know," he admitted, eyeing his right forearm that was now adorned with scars from years of nightmares and panic attacks.

"Then, if I may suggest," his mother said, placing one hand over the marks and turning his chin to the door with the other. It opened, and the last person he expected to see but the one he yearned to see most, entered. "That you run _toward_ something instead?"

Emerald eyes gleamed as Harry strode over to him and embraced him tight. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Draco let himself melt in Harry's warmth, inhaling the familiar scent that made him feel protected and loved. After a moment, he pulled away, his mother's words resonating in his ears, and placed Harry's hand around his wrist.

Looking into those eyes he ached to lose himself in, he said, "Don't ever let me run from you again."

The grip on his wrist tightened, and Harry smiled. "Never."

* * *

 _Just to find my way back to you_

* * *

W **ritten for Hogwarts. Assignment 8. Word count: 3,814 without the author's notes.**

 **Muggle History, Task 2 - Aaron Burr sir: Write about someone fighting for what they want**

 **Also written for the Writing Club.**

 **Disney Challenge: Eeyore - Write a hurt/comfort fic.**

 **Creature Feature: Curupira - (location) - Forbidden Forest**

 **Amber's Attic: But whatever, however, whenever this ends, I want you to know that, right now, I love you forever.**

 **Showtime: Summer Sequence - write a fic involving time skips**

 **Days of the Month** :Find **a Rainbow Day - Only feature queer characters or pairings**

 **Count Your Buttons: Character - Harry Potter, word - burn(ing)**

 **Lyric Alley: But you disappear**

 **Ami's Audio Admirations: King Falls - Word: Fall**

 **Sophie's Shelf: Film Noir Tropes - Sympathy for the Devil: Task: Write about someone seeing the good in a bad character.**


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